


Sanity Lines

by dreamlittleyo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Multi, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only two people Sam needs, and in the face of every darkness Dean and Jo help him keep it together. If he loses them, nothing will survive.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanity Lines

Sam's never seen a world so gray, harsh echoes of shadow all across the ragged brick of tall dark buildings. Power lines stretch the sky, a thin black cross-hatch of blemishes across his vision. For a moment he forgets why they're here. What they're hunting. He's just trapped in a heartbeat, stuck in the sight of the buildings and the warmth of body heat nearby.

They stand to either side of him, loyal and close, two constants in a world gone mad. Dean to his right, _always_ to his right, the grounding force that holds him together when the voices of Hell are screaming in his head. Nothing but Dean's voice, Dean's hands, can bring him back from the edge when he's that close to gone. The visions would have driven him insane a hundred times over, and the other powers thrust on him by destiny and demon's blood, but Dean has always been there to draw him back.

Jo stands to his left, careful fingers on his arm. He needs her, too. A gentle touch that lets him remember he's human, that softens his edges and smoothes away the angry corners. Lets him interact with the world, with the people in it, without lashing out. She looks deceptively fragile, thin wisp of a thing, but she moves fast. Deadly. And he needs that, too.

It's a twisted sort of teamwork, and he needs them _both_ to keep it together. It terrifies him. Keeps him from sleep hour after painful hour wondering what happens if he loses either one of them. The easier question is, what happens if he loses both? He knows that answer. Simple. The world ends.

But if he loses only one of them? That's messier. That's the question that tears him apart, because he doesn't know. The world probably still ends, but his worst nightmares leave him wondering what happens to Dean or Jo, whichever of them remains. He needs them _both_ , and what happens if he tries to take from only _one_ of them enough to keep it together?

Those aren't thoughts for today. Today it's cloudy. Windy. Angry buildings and electrical towers fence them in. He doesn't need to worry about 'what if' and 'maybe,' because Dean and Jo are standing beside him. Close enough that he can feel their heat in the air, feel the reassurance of their proximity. He knows he can reach out to touch and they'll be right where he needs them.

He remembers, finally, why they're here. There's a demon in the warehouse up the street. Camped out and surrounded by minions. No other hunters have been able to get close enough to end the monster, not through all the layers of security, the cult willing to lay down their lives for one of Hell's beasts.

But Sam knows that the three of them, they're not like other hunters. No army of stupid humans will stand a chance. The only question will be how many die instead of running. Once upon a time Sam would've agonized over that question. But his sympathy has grown limited, and he's prepared to take them all down if he has to. No regrets.

The demon never sees it coming, and the attack is a bloodbath. Quick.

The three of them stand in the aftermath, the air thick and dark around them. There's blood everywhere, caked across their skin, gumming up their hair, and Sam's nostrils flare with the need for _more_. The bloodlust settles fast and dangerous under his skin, leaves him shaking and unsatisfied, and there's a whole city around them. Calling him. The poetry of destruction beckons, and he's tensing to bolt before the thought is even conscious.

Dean gets in his way, _always_ gets in his way, and Sam's first response is to snarl and lash out. Try and knock his brother aside, because there's a whole _world_ out there waiting to be crushed.

But Dean stands firm, wraps Sam close. Kisses him, and Sam feels the hum of energy in his blood as it diverts _just enough_. Still the urge to destroy, to hurt, to burn the world down, but Sam isn't trying to leave anymore. His hands reach out and grab harsh hold, pull and twist until the kiss is a dark demand. And Dean just rides with it, opens up and lets Sam take, mumbles words and reassurances against his lips.

Sam finally feels the rage start melting away, feels the new shattered edges that started as fury as they dissolve into something else. Something needy, and he whimpers against his brother's throat, fingers clenching tight at Dean's arms.

It's Jo's touch that soothes him then. She steps up beside them, and her hands are gentle and easy as they thread through his hair, still caked with blood. Dean shifts, urges, loosens Sam's hold on him, still muttering words that mean nothing beyond the steadying flow of sound.

Sam falls to his knees, guided by both of them, and Jo's lips burn hot against his forehead, his jaw, his mouth. Dean's voice in his ear, his hands still holding Sam steady as Jo's fingers work calming magic against his skin, Jo's tongue a warm tease in his mouth. Reminding him what it feels like to be human.

He can stand on his own after, but they help him anyway. It will be a quick drive back to the motel, even the dreary hint of daylight through storm clouds long gone. The rain will wash away some of the mess as they walk, quick turns in the tiny shower to get the rest of it, and they won't sleep tonight. They'll wrap around each other, rub and slide and hold too tight on a single motel bed. Sam catches it in his peripheral vision on the way out, a smoking glance exchanged between his two sanity lines. Their touches won't all be for him tonight. Share and share alike, and Sam's blood shivers in his veins from the anticipation alone.

Tomorrow there will be a new goal, a new hunt, a new bloody mess.

Tonight they have each other.


End file.
